


Sweet Tooth

by kekinkawaii



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dentistry, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:26:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23481673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kekinkawaii/pseuds/kekinkawaii
Summary: With bottle-green eyes and perfectly-symmetrical features, Winchester was unmistakably handsome—no, he was the most attractive man Castiel had seen in a while. And that included celebrities.“I’ll just go check on a few other patients,” Anna said, and exited the room, leaving Castiel alone with the first true crush he’d had since high school, spontaneously sprung upon him out of absolutely nowhere.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 14
Kudos: 87





	Sweet Tooth

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Português brasileiro available: [Sweet Tooth | Tradução/Translation PT-BR ✅](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28478895) by [Queen_von_Fantasien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_von_Fantasien/pseuds/Queen_von_Fantasien)



> Now with a translation by the lovely Queen_von_Fantasien! Thank you <333

“Dr. Novak, patient in room four is ready for a check-up.”

Pausing the saliva ejector, Castiel directed a smile towards the nurse at the door. He’d told everyone in the office that just Castiel was fine, but gave up after multiple attempts. (The only person who actually listened was Meg, but Meg had started calling him Cassie long before he told everyone to call him Castiel, along with multiple suggestive comments, until Castiel had pulled her into his private office for a frank and uncomfortable conversation in which he revealed to her that he was gay. Meg had taken it surprisingly well, with pursed lips and a disappointed twirl of her hair, although they still couldn’t maintain eye contact for a very long time.)

“I’ll be there in a moment,” Castiel said, jerking out of his thoughts when his patient—a standard cleaning—turned her head to the side and coughed slightly. “Thank you, Anna.”

Anna dashed him a quick smile. “No problem,” she said, before disappearing into the hall.

Castiel turned his attention back to his patient. He had already applied the paste earlier, and now he swiftly but thoroughly rinsed it off.

“Just a quick fluoride mouthwash and you’re good to go,” he said, very nearly automatically now. “Now, I need to ask you a few questions.” He gave her a brief smile, and decided to incorporate a bit of levity into the situation. “Don’t worry, nothing scary—but between you and me, we can always tell when you’re lying about flossing every day.” He had a patient this morning who had stared at him, wide-eyed and terrified, like he was a plague doctor—mask and all. 

He mentally zoned out as he prepared the mouthwash, asking the same questions and sprouting the same speech he gave to all his patients about how dental health waited for no one, and how damage could be irreversible, and so on.

“Thank you for choosing Destiny Dental, Meg at the front desk will help you schedule your next cleaning in three months,” he said afterwards.

A goodbye later, he replaced his gloves, washed his hands, and fixed his mask before heading over to room four.

Anna was already in the room, chatting idly with the patient. As Castiel entered, he saw her throw back her head and let out a bright laugh. Castiel’s eyebrows raised—Anna was known for being friendly with patients and an absolute legend with children, but he’d never heard her laugh with such genuine cheer talking to a patient until now.

“Oh!” Anna said, noticing his presence and flushing a little. “Sorry, Mr. Novak, I didn’t see you there.”

“That’s perfectly alright,” Castiel said cordially. “You said the patient needed a check-up?”

“Yup,” Anna said. “This is Dean Winchester.”

“At your service,” said a low, male voice, at the same time as Castiel finished walking over and around Anna.

He needed to consciously fight to keep his face emotionless. With bottle-green eyes and perfectly-symmetrical features, Winchester was unmistakably handsome—no, he was the most attractive man Castiel had seen in a while. And that included celebrities.

“I’ll just go check on a few other patients,” Anna said, and exited the room, leaving Castiel alone with the first true crush he’d had since high school, spontaneously sprung upon him out of absolutely nowhere.

He swallowed his suddenly-dry mouth and wrenched his mind towards his focus.

“Hello, Mr. Winchester,” he said.

Winchester smiled crookedly, and Castiel felt his heart give a pathetic sort of flutter. “Dean is fine,” he said. “And you’re…”

“Castiel,” Castiel said. “Castiel Novak.”

“Cool name,” Dean said, pursing his (plush, pink) lips. “I like it.” The cloth they had tied around his chest to prevent his shirt from getting wet was a dark forest green that, ridiculously, made his eyes pop. Castiel cursed Anna silently. She had to have done it on purpose.

“I’m named after the angel of Thursday,” Castiel said without thinking, and then cursed himself next to Anna. He’d _never_ told that to a patient before.

“Really?” Dean said. “That’s cool.”

Castiel opened and closed his mouth for a moment searching for a proper response, found none, and nodded instead. “Like Anna said, I’ll just be doing a basic check-up for cavities, wisdom teeth, things like that.”

“Sounds good, doc,” Dean said, and obediently opened his mouth.

After steeling himself for doing this to his newfound, abrupt, and now quite impossible crush—seriously, there was nothing more embarrassing, or less attractive, than poking and squishing and prodding around someone’s gums—Castiel slid his fingers through Dean’s parted lips.

It was, all in all, one of the longest check-ups of his life. And that was including that one time with the man who had for some godforsaken reason decided it was a good idea to chew on the same wad of tobacco gum for three whole goddamn days. Castiel knew he himself wasn’t bad-looking, and that, albeit somewhat odd, his manner of speaking and dialect held at least some ounce of strange charm. But all of that was defenestrated once he’d gone and shoved his fingers into someone's mouth. Castiel did his best to repress those thoughts, and fell back to a detached professionalism.

“Your teeth are looking excellent, Dean,” he said once the whole ordeal was over. “Though you might want to watch your bottom-left molar—the one furthest back. There is a chance of a cavity there, so it is of the utmost importance to be attentive.”

Dean prodded that tooth with his tongue, mouth twisting. He hummed in acknowledgement, and then sat up, swinging his legs so that he was sitting sideways on the chair. “Got it, doc,” he said. “So, am I free to go?”

“Yes,” Castiel said. “Meg will be at the front office to schedule your next cleaning in approximately three months.”

Dean nodded absentmindedly, and then looked at Castiel with curiosity in his eyes. “Hey, so why do _you_ have to do the check-up? Why not Anna?”

“I have more experience in dental care,” Castiel said, peeling his gloves off and discarding them into the waste bin at the corner of the room. “I can notice irregularities more thoroughly than Anna, or any of the other dentists in the office, for that matter. Not that they aren’t qualified,” he added hastily, “it’s just an efficiency thing.”

“Hey, that’s cool,” Dean said, shrugging. “I wasn’t implying anything. So, if Anna did the check-up, she’d miss some cavities and stuff like that?”

“Not necessarily,” Castiel said, feeling mildly defensive as he washed his hands at the sink, head turned slightly to keep Dean in his line of vision. “Anna is fantastic at her job, but I am simply more experienced in quantifiable terms, thus making me more qualified for tasks that require finesse and a more experienced hand or eye, such as fillings and wisdom teeth—or check-ups.”

“Huh,” Dean said. “So hypothetically, if I got a cavity, _you’d_ be the one to fill it? Instead of Anna?”

“That is correct,” Castiel said, feeling an irrational blurt of heat stirring in his gut. “However, if you’d truly prefer Anna as your dentist, I’m sure I can arrange—”

“What?” Dean said loudly. “No! That’s not what I meant. Cas, I didn’t mean it like that. I was actually—” He exhaled harshly and dragged a hand down his face. “Nevermind. I was just trying to make small talk. I’m sorry.”

Feeling surprised at the sudden outburst, Castiel reeled back his own hostility. “Yes, of course,” he said, stammering slightly. “And I’d like to apologize on my part as well. That was unprofessional of me.”

The corner of Dean’s mouth quirked up. “No harm done,” he said dryly. “Anyway, I should get going.”

“Of course,” Castiel said. “Meg at the front office—”

“Will help me schedule a date for my next cleaning.” Dean finished the sentence for him. “I got it, Cas.”

Castiel watched Dean exit the room. “Very well,” he said quietly, feeling inexplicably disappointed.

-+-+-+-

Washing his hands with more vigour than usual, Castiel did his best to expel all thoughts of the appointment he’d just completed out of his mind and immediate memory. A crying child was one thing—a screaming parent was another.

“Anna,” he called out, and heard her reply in the room over. “Could you please check if I have another appointment?”

“Just a minute, Dr. Novak,” Anna replied, and after turning off the tap, Castiel could hear her typing. “Ah—yup, you do. Dean Winchester in room two in five minutes.”

Castiel felt his heart give a traitorous stutter in his chest upon hearing the name. “It hasn’t been three months, has it?” 

“No, Dr. Novak,” Anna said. “It says here that he’s here for a filling.”

“Oh,” Castiel said, entering the room Anna was in now. “What kind?”

“Composite,” Anna said, swivelling in her office chair to face Castiel. “Bottom-left molar.”

Castiel nodded. “I see,” he said faintly, before schooling his features and giving Anna a grateful smile. “Thank you, Anna.”

“No problem, Dr. Novak.”

The following five minutes were simultaneously the shortest and longest of Castiel’s life. The same time he was pacing back and forth down the brightly-lit halls and mentally wringing his hands, it felt as if he’d blinked twice and suddenly, there he was, walking into room two and catching sight of Dean Winchester for the second time in his life. He felt rueful resignation at the realization that one month of absence did nothing to overblow his expectations on the man’s attractiveness. He had on a light stubble this time, which only served to accentuate his jawline, and his smile was as bright as ever.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said. “Here for my filling?”

Castiel raised one eyebrow. “Why else?” he said, retrieving two blue rubber gloves from the container on the shelf and snapping them on.

“So, hey,” Dean said as Castiel prepped the tools for the initial cleaning. “How was your day?”

The surprise Castiel felt at the question overrode his professional judgement, and he felt himself say, “Not as well as I’d hoped. My previous patient’s mother was furious at the thought of me giving her child novocaine, as it was supposedly ‘hurting him’. She shouted at me.”

“Shit,” Dean said, and Castiel felt more surprise at the amount of sympathy in his voice. “That’s terrible. I’m sorry that happened to you.”

Castiel shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“Nah, it isn’t,” Dean said, “but some people are dicks, and you can’t change ‘em.” He winked at Cas. “As someone who worked in IT for a year, trust me when I say I completely get it.”

He glanced towards the syringe in Castiel’s hand, where he was prepping Dean’s novocaine. “And for what it’s worth? I’d never bitch at you like that. I think you’re a fantastic dentist.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel said, feeling warmth blossom in his chest at the genuine tone in Dean’s voice. Dean gave him a wide sunny grin before opening his mouth wide for Castiel to administer the novocaine. True to his word, he didn’t even flinch.

The rest of the process Castiel followed through swiftly and efficiently, muscle memory serving him faithfully accurate. At the end of the session, as he gave one last rinse throughout Dean’s mouth, he felt an instinct ring in his head—something he’d never neglected. He slid in one finger and gently prodded it against Dean’s gums, far down along his molars. He felt Dean’s body tense at the intrusion before he gradually relaxed.

Just as he thought. With a bit of satisfaction that his gut feeling had been correct, Castiel eased his finger out of Dean’s mouth before beginning his cleanup. He spoke while doing so, stripping his gloves and disposing of the tools properly.

“Your wisdom teeth might be coming in,” Castiel said while washing his hands. “Have you gotten an x-ray to check if they will come in smoothly?”

“Wisdom teeth?” Dean said, voice sounding rough from disuse. “No. Should I?”

“Not a problem,” Castiel said. “In fact, I can do it right now.”

Ten minutes and three x-rays later, Castiel reentered room two and told Dean his diagnosis.

“Unfortunately, we will need to remove your wisdom teeth,” he said. “Their growth, if left unattended to, will crowd your mouth and lead to discomfort and misalignment.”

Dean, whose face had brightened at Castiel’s entry, fell slightly. He pulled a face. “Aw, shit,” he said. “Well, we don’t want that, do we?”

“No, we don’t,” Castiel said good-naturedly. “But I can schedule you in for a wisdom teeth removal in one week." After a few moments of tapping on the computer, Castiel checked his schedule and said, "Does Thursday at three o’clock work?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, after a moment of thought. “Yeah, that's perfect.”

“Excellent,” Castiel said. “Meg at the front office will confirm your appointment. I’ll see you then, Dean.”

“Looking forward to it,” Dean said, and Castiel found, with no lack in surprise, that he was.

-+-+-+-

Gabriel Novak was a man of many sayings, the majority of which Castiel would utterly disagree with (such as ‘sugar is always a good idea’, ‘don’t trust anything that bleeds for three days straight and still lives’, and ‘traffic lights are just a suggestion’). But one of them he would, however begrudgingly, completely admit to being true.

‘Wisdom teeth are a fucking bitch.’

For one, Castiel needed multiple dentists in the room with him, working alongside him, which always made him uneasy. For seconds, this wasn’t just any wisdom teeth—these were Dean Winchester’s wisdom teeth. And they were, for lack of a better word, fucked.

The operation took over an hour, and by the end of it, everyone in the room was due for a nice long walk and breath of fresh air. Castiel left the room and went for a brisk walk outside to clear his head before returning to his office to fill out some paperwork, only afterwards steeling himself enough to reenter room six, where Dean was recovering.

The entire lower half of his face was swaddled in bandages, so that he looked like some sort of partially-finished mummy—like someone had given up halfway through. His eyes were hooded and drooping lazily, and he was staring into empty space with a sprawling smile. In spite of all this, he was still the most attractive man Castiel had ever seen, which he found supremely unfair.

“Dean?” Castiel approached tentatively. You never knew what you’d get with nitrous oxide. One memorable moment of Castiel’s career was when he spoke to a woman post-laughing gas who had been convinced Castiel was an FBI agent, and was determined to prove herself to Castiel so that she could join his forces. This moment included a demonstration of surprisingly deadly karate techniques which, had Anna not managed to sedate her, would’ve led to possibly broken bones. The aftermath of wisdom teeth removal was one of the only things that kept Castiel quick on his feet.

“Dean?” he asked again, when there was no response. He came closer, kneeling down so that he was in Dean’s line of vision. “Hello?”

Dean mumbled something incoherent. His head lolled. “Whuh?” he said, words slurred.

Castiel felt a smile tugging at his lips. “Hello, Dean,” he said.

For a good three seconds, Dean didn’t respond, and then his eyes sharply darted up and focused on Castiel with a shocking amount of coherency. “Cas?”

“Yes, that’s me,” Castiel said encouragingly. “Dean, your wisdom teeth removal was very successful. You are still under a fair amount of laughing gas, which is why you may feel strange. This is only temporary, and will last no longer than a few hours. Your brother, Samuel, is in the waiting room ready to take you home.”

At the word _Samuel,_ Dean visibly perked. “Sammmmmmy,” he drawled. “Sam. Sammy. Sammysam.” He squinted at Castiel. “Who are you?”

“I’m Castiel,” Castiel said patiently. “I’m your dentist.”

Dean’s jaw dropped open. “Ohhhh,” he said, and then broke out into a heavily-slanting grin. “Cas. Hi, Cas.”

“Yes, that’s what you call me,” Castiel said, smiling despite himself.

“Caaas,” Dean said, his voice drawling and drunken. “Man. You’re like—you’re like an _angel,_ Cas.”

“I was named after the angel of Thursday, that is correct.”

Dean squinted at Castiel's face and awe filled his features. “Woah, Cas. Your eyes are like. Man, I don’t even know, they’re like— _blue.”_ He stared for another second before grinning goofily. “Pretty,” he declared.

Castiel felt a red-hot flush burning its way up his neck. “Thank you, Dean,” he said, frantically crushing the spark of hope that flickered and flared up. He reminded himself of the one woman who’d unabashedly hit on him while drugged-up and furiously denied it afterwards, face crimson and apologies unrelenting. 

“That’s very kind of you to say,” Castiel said. “You have beautiful eyes yourself.”

Dean gasped loudly. “Really?!” he said. “Aw. That’s so nice, Cas. You’re so nice, Cas.” He let out a sound that could only be described as a giggle.

“Thank you,” Castiel said, feeling faint. Was there lingering laughing gas in the room?

“You’re like an angel,” Dean said, sprawling into a lazy, hazy smile. “Have you seen Star Wars?”

Castiel took the non-sequitur in stride. “No, I have not.”

Dean gasped again. “That’s _crazy!_ We have to watch it together, Cas!”

“You… You want to watch Star Wars with me?” 

_“Yes!”_ Dean said enthusiastically. “At my place. I’ll make you PIE! And—and, and spa—spagti. Sagetti. Spati.” He frowned, and then seemed to forget about it. He widened his eyes at Castiel. “I really, really want to make you pie. Blueberry and strawberry and banana. And chocolate. And whipped cream. Mmmm.” His eyes, which had been steadily drooping closed, shot open again. “Please? Pleeease?”

“I,” Castiel whispered.

Dean’s voice rose in volume until it took up the entire room. “PLEASE, Cas! You’re like… Han Solo. On the Imperial spaceship. Mmm.” He smiled. _“I love you. I know.”_ The smile was wiped and replaced with horror. He clapped a hand over his mouth. “Oh my god! I spoiled it!” Amazingly, his eyes began to grow moist. “Oh, no,” he moaned. “I’m so sorry, Cas! I didn’t mean to!”

“Dean?” Castiel asked, alarmed. “Dean, it’s okay.”

“It’s NOT OKAY,” Dean wailed. “Now you won’t wanna come over and, and watch Star Wars, and I won’t get to make you pie and whipped cream and EVERYTHING’S RUINED!” 

“I’ll go!” Castiel said desperately. “I’ll come over and watch Star Wars with you.”

“Really?” Dean sniffed, eyes still watery and trained unmoving on Castiel like a kicked puppy.

“I—yes,” Castiel said.

Dean narrowed his eyes. “Promise.”

“I… I promise.”

“YES!” Dean said, in his loudest voice yet. Castiel cringed away, and Dean quickly lowered it. “Sorry, Cas,” he said, sounding contrite. “I’m just so happy.” To his horror, his eyes began to fill again.

“It’s alright,” Castiel said weakly, at the same time someone barrelled into the room.

Dean’s eyes widened at the sight of his brother. “Sammy?”

“Dean?” Sam asked, eyes wide and chest heaving. He looked at Castiel. “I’m sorry, I just—I heard shouting, and I—”

“Saaaaaammmy!” Dean yelled.

Sam took in the sight of Dean, and snorted a laugh. “Hey, Dean,” he said, and turned back to Castiel. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have have barged in—”

“No, I’m so glad you did,” Castiel said at the same time as Dean shouted, “SAMMY! GUESS WHAT!”

“What?” Sam said.

“Cas is coming over to have pancakes!” Dean said exuberantly.

“You are?” Sam said, shooting a questioning look to Castiel.

“I—I suppose?” Castiel said.

“YESSS,” Dean said, flinging his arms up in the air. Sam looked between Dean and Castiel and grinned helplessly.

“He was getting upset,” Castiel argued weakly. 

“I’ll bet,” Sam said, looking endlessly amused. 

“You should take him home before he can embarrass himself any more,” Castiel said.

Sam snickered. “Who says he won’t embarrass himself even more at home?” he said, but he walked over to Dean and gently took his arm, pulling him up. “Hey, man. C’mon. Time to go home.”

Dean pouted at Sam and then scowled. “Sammy, no! Wanna stay with Cas!”

“Cas needs to work,” Sam said reasonably, keeping his tone coaxing and soft. “Isn’t he coming over for Star Wars later? You need to recover and rest before you’re up for that, right? Gotta look your best for Castiel?”

Dean blinked and thought through Sam’s words for a moment before slumping and letting Sam pull him upright. “Fine, Sammy,” he grumped, and went completely limp, letting Sam drag him all the way to the door.

“Jesus Christ, you’re heavy,” Sam said.

 _“You're_ heavy. Bitch,” Dean drawled.

“Jerk,” Sam immediately shot back. At the door, he said, “Hey, by the way, Castiel—thanks so much, man.”

“It’s my job,” Castiel said.

Sam shook his head. “Not that,” he said, a glint in slanted hazel eyes. “Thanks for agreeing to come over. Dean’ll finally stop moping about you.”

“What?” Castiel said dumbly.

“DON’T TELL HIM!” Dean suddenly yelled out, flailing in Sam’s grasp.

“Fuck,” Sam grunted, and hoisted Dean back up. “Okay, okay! I won’t tell him! Jeez!”

Dean muttered something incomprehensible. Sam looked back to Castiel and winked before dragging Dean out of sight.

-+-+-+-

That was exactly a week ago, and Dean Winchester had yet to return to Destiny Dental.

Castiel had just very nearly started to forget the whole ordeal (who was he kidding, he would never forget it—desperately fail to repress it was more accurate) when Anna popped her head into his office and said, “Dean Winchester wants to see you.”

“It hasn’t been three months,” Castiel said, forcing himself to sound nonchalant through the wild ricochet of his heart. “Does he have another filling?”

“Nope,” Anna said. “He’s just… here.”

And just there he was, standing awkwardly in the waiting room with his hands shoved inside his pockets, staring at the television in the corner where a kids’ cartoon played at minimum volume.

“Dean?” Castiel asked.

Dean’s eyes flitted over, and he broke into a smile—this one threaded with nervousness. “Hey, Cas,” he said. “How’s it going?”

Castiel didn’t beat around the bush. “What are you doing here?” he said bluntly.

Dean’s smile slid off his face and he bit his lip. “Well,” he said, and laughed shakily. He took one hand out of his pockets and shoved it through his hair. “This is awkward. Um, so apparently after I got my wisdom teeth out, I was still doped-up, and according to Sam, I said some stuff?”

“Yes, you did,” Castiel said.

“Fuck,” Castiel heard Dean mutter softly under his breath. “Okay, well. I just came here to say that, uh, whatever I said—”

“It’s alright,” Castiel interrupted before he could hear the words, the crushing weight of rejection already settling into his bones. “People say irrational things under the effects of laughing gas. I completely understand, Dean, and I assure you that you do not have to worry, and that it is all forgiven and forgotten—”

“Woah, woah,” Dean said, holding up both hands. “Who said anything about forgetting?”

Castiel’s words drifted off. “What?” he said inanely.

“Cas,” Dean said, with a soft and hesitant smile. “I came here to make sure you held up your end of the deal.”

Castiel’s heart beat a tattoo against his ribs. “What do you mean?” he asked, hope like butterfly wings flitting on the edges of his voice.

“I mean,” Dean said, taking a step closer, “after that first check-up, I ate so much sugar I gained two pounds, and purposely didn’t brush my teeth after, because I wanted an excuse to see you. I mean I’ve been wanting to ask you out since the first time I saw you.”

“Jesus Christ,” Castiel said.

“Don’t use his name in vain,” Dean said. “You’re an angel of the lord.” His expression melted into a sly smile. “Oh, hey, Cas. Guess what day it is.”

It took Castiel a moment.

“You planned this,” he said accusingly.

Dean spread his arms. He was grinning like a loon. “Guilty as charged.”

“How did you know I was gay?”

Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, for starters, you kept staring at me during the first check-up.”

“I was doing a check-up. I was supposed to stare.”

“Eh.” Dean waved a hand. “There was a difference, trust me. Anyway, I asked Meg afterwards and she confirmed it for me.”

Castiel directed his eyes to the front desk, where Meg was watching the two of them like an overly-invested ping-pong fan. Dean waved at her and she gave him a thumbs up.

“We had a challenge to see who could insert the most innuendo into conversation with you,” Dean said.

Castiel tilted his head. “I don’t recall anything.” 

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Oh, hey, Cas, here for my filling? This is my first time, will it hurt? I just had an hour-long session with you and my jaw is sore as hell.”

Castiel ran those words through his head, and then broke into a mild coughing fit. “Oh,” he managed to say.

“Yeah,” Dean said with an askew smile, not looking apologetic at all.

“I can’t believe you got a cavity _on purpose,”_ Castiel said once he had recovered. “You are a dentist’s worst nightmare.”

“Aw,” Dean said, pressing a hand to his chest. “You dream about me? That’s so sweet, Cas.”

“I—” Castiel sputtered and felt his face turning red. “Stop that,” he finally said, weakly, blandly.

Dean grinned harder. “What are you gonna do about it? Pull my teeth out?” And before Castiel could spend any more time sputtering and turning red, he took a final step closer and swallowed all the distance between the two of them.

He ducked his head to meet Castiel’s eyes and gently placed one hand over his cheek, brushing it against his skin feather-soft.

“Dean,” Castiel said, feeling like someone had taken a vacuum and sucked out all the oxygen in the room.

“Whaddya’ say, Cas,” Dean murmured. “Star Wars and pie?”

Castiel had only enough air left in his lungs to sigh. 

Dean’s eyes were a dark, dark green and his voice was low as a distant thunderstorm. “Yeah?” 

In reply, Castiel tilted his head up and met Dean’s lips.

Dean immediately melted into it, eager and open, threading a hand through Castiel’s hair and placing the other one on the small of his back, pulling him in tighter until they were flush together as one.

Moments later, Dean parted with a shaky, dazed huff of a laugh that Castiel felt as a lingering warmth over his lips.

“You taste like coffee,” Dean said softly.

Castiel licked his lips. “You taste like fluorine mouthwash,” he said.

“Oh, baby, you’re so romantic,” Dean murmured, leaning in closer again.

“Of course,” Castiel said, and spent the next ten minutes intimately mapping out every square inch of Dean’s mouth.

(But this time, he didn’t use a sickle probe.)

**Author's Note:**

> Saved you a search: a sickle probe is one of those horrifyingly-stabby hooked dental tools. Also, disclaimer: I am not a dentist.
> 
> During my debate on whether or not to sign up for DCBB, I wrote this as a joke to get myself into the zone, and accidentally went way too deep into the zone and finished it at five in the morning. The things I do. I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Please leave a comment! Anything you say will make my day. Hope y'all are hanging in there in these tough times <3


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